Longingly Said To Return
by MyGhela
Summary: She sat on her bed, her phone placed on it. She watched it, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call. Maybe what she did was wrong, maybe he thought she was just a kid and didn't take her seriously; maybe giving him that note was a mistake. Pason.


**I don't know where this came from but I had a sudden Pason feel so yeah...**

* * *

As the empty classroom started to fill up with students entering it for their English class, having their own little conversation, in their own little world of cliques, Patricia Williamson sat on the second to the last row.

As soon as Mr. Winkler started his discussion, her mind flew elsewhere. Soon enough she was in her own little world.

Patricia looked out the window of her classroom. She wasn't really paying attention to what Mr. Jason Winkler was saying in front, her gaze moved from the window to the clock. Only a few more minutes before dismissal.

Mr. Winkler was discussing about poetry, a topic that Patricia didn't find interesting.

Jason Winkler. A name that Patricia found amusing, it didn't really have a ring to it but for some reason she liked it, maybe because it's his name.

"Who would like to read one of their own work?" Mr. Winkler asked the class, making Patricia snap back to reality.

Alfie Lewis' hand jolted up fast, Mr. Winkler gestured for him to stand up and read his work.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "Roses are red, violets are blue, my heart is lonely waiting for" he said turning his head to Amber, who was sitting next to him.

The class burst into laughter as the boy sat back down.

A smile was obvious on Mr. Winkler's face and Patricia couldn't help but smile.

Not because of Alfie's corny poem but because she liked seeing Mr. Winkler's smile.

"Very original Alfie" Mr. Winkler commented, sarcasm in his tone.

A sudden thought pop into Patricia's mind. She wasn't sure why but suddenly got a piece of paper from one of her notebooks and grabbed a pen.

She wrote on it carefully, making sure no one was looking at it.

After she was finished writing she folded the paper carefully into a perfect square.

Soon enough the bell rang indicating the class was over.

"Okay, guys you have 'till tomorrow to finish the assignment" Mr. Winkler said as the students gathered their things before walking out of the class.

As the students filled out the classroom, Patricia sat there in her chair, her gaze on Mr. Winkler, as her gathered his own belongs, getting ready to leave.

She stood up and walked slowly towards his desk, holding the note with her slightly shaky hands.

Mr. Winkler looked up from his desk and his eyes locked with her for a moment before she placed the note in his desk and walked away, gathering her things from her own desk and left the classroom.

Jason watched her walking away and when she was gone, he found himself staring at the empty doorway, where she was moments ago.

He opened the note to read what was written on it, her perfectly cursive writing that he always was fond of.

_Hi, can we talk? I always admired you and thought you were a good English and drama teacher._

_I know this maybe a little inappropriate but here's my number, so call me maybe?_** (I'm sorry, I couldn't resist)**

_xxx-xxx-xxx_

Jason folded the piece of paper and sat down on his chair, was she crazy?

He was her teacher, she was right on the inappropriate thing but Jason couldn't resist.

What he was about to do was wrong.

He knew it but he couldn't resist, he couldn't resist her.

* * *

She sat on her bed, her phone placed on it. She watched it, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.

Maybe what she did was wrong, maybe he thought she was just a kid and didn't take her seriously; maybe giving him that note was a mistake.

Patricia grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it, muffling a scream.

Tears were starting to form in her eyes, when her phone started to vibrate.

She quickly took hold of it and a small smile crept on her lips.

"Hello?" she greeted hesitantly

"Hi Patricia" the male voice from the other end said "It's me, Jason Winkler"

The small smile on Patricia's lips were now a full on grin.

He called her. He called her!

She wanted to jump around with joy.

"Hey" she replied, excitement in her tone.

After a few awkward topics, their conversation started to flow naturally talking about anything and anyone but they stayed away from one topic. School.

This was wrong, what they're doing is wrong, both knew it but did they care? No.

The next day as Jason walked down the halls, texting her, a smile on his face. He was careful to check if someone was looking and when he entered his classroom his eyes forthwith looked for her.

He saw sitting in her usual sit, as the class began both kept glancing at one another.

Soon the class' previous topic about poems began again, one by one each student stood in front of the class reading their own poems.

Jason held his phone in his hand, below his table so no one would see, as the same for Patricia. They texted each other as the other students recited their works.

A message that Patricia sent to him, made Jason look up and lock eyes with her. His eyes widen a fraction but he remembered to look normal or the other students will notice.

A message that he didn't except that she would send.

4 words, 8 letters.

_I love you_

After Nina finished reciting her love poem that obviously for Fabian the room filled with claps and when she sat back down next to Fabian, the couple blushed at one another.

Next up was Patricia; she walked up to the front of the room, holding her notebook in her hands.

Patricia looked at her fellow students and took a deep intake of breath before beginning.

"A song of anticipation follows black leather of footsteps" she sighed, daring a glance to Jason "seconded by the pitter pattering of a fist-sized machine. I am jailed by your memory-"

She was cut off by the sound of the bell.

"Okay class you may go" Jason said to the class, as Patricia stood in front.

Her tight grip on her notebooks, gently loosen.

Soon enough the classroom was empty and the students were long gone, except Patricia.

Jason with the other students left the room, not even looking back at Patricia.

She wanted to die at that very moment.

She felt stupid for texting him that message, she felt stupid for giving him that note, she felt stupid for loving him.

That night Patricia didn't receive a call or a text message from Jason.

She waited until she gave in to the reality that he wasn't going to call her.

And something happened that no one in a million years would think Patricia Williamson would do.

Patricia Williamson was now crying, crying because of a guy.

* * *

The students were in class, conveying their own conversation with each other as they waited for Mr. Winkler to come in.

Patricia Williamson sat on her desk, not talking to anyone.

The class was surprised when Mr. Sweet came in the room.

"Gentlemen sit down" he ordered the boys in the class, who were all standing up and chatting around.

After all the students were sat down in their chairs facing the blackboard, Mr. Sweet continued to speak.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this" He began "But Mr. Winkler was involved in a car crash late last night"

Silences hang in the air. Students gasp could be heard after a moment.

Everyone had a worried look on their faces unlike Patricia whose facial expression was… nothing.

She looked numb, she felt numb.

"We're not sure if he's going to be okay but for the meantime, class is cancelled" Mr. Sweet finished, leaving the room

Slowly the students got up from their sits and left the classroom except Patricia.

She stayed there for a moment before walking up to the empty desk, her legs felt like jelly and she felt like they were going to give in.

She stood in front of the empty desk, notebook in hand.

She started to cry as she read the poem that she wrote.

"_A song of anticipation follows  
black leather of footsteps  
seconded by the pitter pattering  
of_ _a fist-sized machine  
I am jailed by your memory  
these bars of sunlight  
and walls of scented smoke  
and brown woods with picture frames  
of evening coffee stains and cherry lipgloss  
mend spaces at the back of my head  
eventually, present becomes a cage  
I, arrest this bird fearing fly  
and longingly said to return"_

She finished reading the poem, her notebook now stained with tears.

She stared at the desk as if someone was there, listening to her.

As her final tears flowed down her face, she whipped them away before walking out of the, now empty classroom.

* * *

Everywhere she'd go all she could think about was him.

Everywhere she'd look, everything reminded her of him.

She couldn't focus.

She ran as fast as could, away from the school, away from everybody.

She hid from everyone but everywhere she goes it only reminded her of him.

* * *

**Kyyaaa~**

**I'm sorry about the 'call me maybe' part, I couldn't resist **

**Yiieee~**

**R&R~**


End file.
